The Schism
by Soul Reaver
Summary: Zack attends a boot camp prgram for the sake of challenge. Ivy's subsequent investigation has some unexpected results. Rated for some Angst and cursing.
1. Connection Terminated

The Schism  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego characters in this fanfic and no profit is derived from this fanfic…  
  
The young man stood in the corner of the hotel room, what had he done, he wondered, what had happened to make her leave. Waves of frustration, grief, anger, and other emotions came crashing down on him like waves against a beach. He saw his brown; beat up leather flight type jacket hanging from a hook on the door, sticking out of it was piece of white paper, creased neatly. His first instinct was to shred the paper immediately, but some sixth sense told him he'd regret it if he did. There was something else in it, a small pewter medallion of the Blessed Mary, the broken clasp on it's delicate silver chain fixed, she had helped him get it back.  
  
Part of him was sorry that he had ever met her, but the other half realized that she was the one that helped him face his biggest fear. He turned his attention to the letter. It read  
  
Dearest Victor,  
  
I know you don't deserve this to happen to you, and all I can say is I'm sorry. I love you but I can't stay…  
  
The man tucked the letter back into his jacket pocket; he didn't want to read it. Instead he thought back to the moment where it all began…  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Ivy," said a familiar teenaged voice over the phone, "Hey, I just want to say Boot Camp's going just fine and…"  
  
The connection suddenly terminated, which was strange. Zack was spending the two months of the summer at the Youth Outreach program, a sort of outdoor boot camp for teens located just south of Orlando, Florida, near the St. John's River. Normally it was where troubled teens were sent, but Zack went because he wanted to take a challenge this summer, do something different. She hadn't heard much from Zack in three weeks, aside from a few letters and the occasional phone call. She chalked it off initially to the fact that Zack was probably just having a lot of fun at the camp. That phone call, however, began to worry her. She draped her towel around her shoulder and picked up her gym bag, maybe it was time to go talk to Chief about this. Of course not in the sweaty state she was in now…  
  
"So, just the phone call terminated. Has he tried to call back." The digitized, but still lovable, Chief said.  
  
"No, he hasn't. He says that they have phone time every week, but I don't understand why he just got a sentence in, and not anything else." Ivy replied.  
  
"Hmm, I'm not convinced this is enough to warrant a C-5 trip, but I can spring the funds for a flight to Orlando so you can check it out. Visitation is permitted, isn't it?" Chief said.  
  
"It is. Thanks Chief." Ivy replied.  
  
That night she threw together a travel bag and drove off to the airport. The cross country flight was uneventful, save for Chief making a call, giving her a list of the Acme detectives operating in the Orlando area if she needed help and reminding her she needed to check in with the Acme office in Orlando.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ivy really didn't have any baggage to pick up, and so she walked straight to the curb, waiting for a taxi. The security guard at Acme, Orlando waved her through after she presented her identification card.  
  
Might as well get something to eat at the café. Ivy thought, realizing belatedly she hadn't eaten anything since that unappetizing airline lunch on the plane from San Francisco. Ordering a pastry and some coffee, she sat down at a table as Stefan, an old, wiry, but humor-loving Haitian took her order and gave her a receipt.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Victor Garibaldi, for the umpteenth time, realized how his wrinkled black Metallica t-shirt, stained jeans, and ancient, beat up leather jacket contrasted with the fashionable and trendy garb of most of the young Acme detectives working out of here. His natural bravado came to the rescue, however, I'm just as good as they are. He thought.  
  
Despite his brave front, however, he was still feeling a little self- conscious. He was on his way to a table when a slender red head sitting at a nearby table motioned him over. "Hey, I'm new here, do you know what time Inspector Lynch's lunch break is over?"  
  
"Lynch? She usually comes in here." Garibaldi said, on closer inspection the redhead was pretty cute, an oval, narrow face, green eyes…  
  
"By the way, my name's Ivy."  
  
"Victor." Garibaldi replied.  
  
"Victor Garibaldi?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Yes." Vic replied.  
  
"Didn't you crack the VILE theft of the stolen ME 109 last spring?" Ivy asked.  
  
"So that's how you heard of me, eh?" Victor smiled, his best lopsided grin, "Yeah, Lynch is still fuming at me for violating every single regulation in the book. Just because I had to rev the engine and fly the plane out of the place where VILE stashed it, and not to mention I had to pull of an abrupt and rather nasty crash landing in a cow pasture back in California doesn't mean I'm that bad. I mean I got the plane back to them in more or less flyable conditions, and hey those country boys need a little excitement in their lives, good for the circulation, at least that's what Chief Inspector Warren had to say."  
  
"You've flown before?" Ivy said.  
  
"A little bit, here and there." Garibaldi said, casually pulling his pilot's license out of his jacket pocket.  
  
"How many hours?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Approximately 372 hours, all conditions, all single engine aircraft. I'm working on my multi-engine rating." Garibaldi said, convinced he had this one talking, expecting her to be amazed.  
  
"You're really slow, Victor. I have at least 550 or so and my multi-engine rating." Ivy said, arms folded across her chest, smiling.  
  
She saw Victor Garibaldi's eyes go wide with surprise, "Man, that's more than I've pulled off in four years of flying. How long have you been flying."  
  
"Since I was thirteen, five years." Ivy replied, "How about you?"  
  
"Since I was fifteen, four years. Warren still lets me fly the Cessna we have at the Sanford Executive Airport. Especially if certain Acme detectives here miss their flights and get delayed at airports. I run an aerial taxi service and pick them up or drop them off." Garibaldi said, taking a seat in front of Ivy.  
  
"Victor, do you know about the Youth Outreach program?" Ivy asked.  
  
"A little, why?" Garibaldi asked.  
  
"My brother's there. He was making his weekly phone call but then the connection suddenly died." Ivy replied, "I need to go see if he's alright."  
  
"What did he do?" Vic asked.  
  
"Nothing he just wanted to do something different this summer." Ivy replied.  
  
"I know where that place is. Need a ride." Garibaldi asked.  
  
"If you don't mind." Ivy replied.  
  
"Not at all." Garibaldi replied. They walked out to the parking lot to a beat up gray 1987 Pontiac Firebird.  
  
"Nice car." Ivy said, indicating the paint that wasn't even the same shade of gray all around.  
  
"Thanks." Victor said, opening the doors, rolling down the window, explaining his AC wasn't working, and pulled out of the parking lot.  
  
Garibaldi was literally flying down I-4, and as soon as he reached the camp, he parked his car in the parking lot. The camp was a large area, surrounded by a large chain-link perimeter fence topped by coils of razor wire. No cosmetic effect could disguise the height of the fence or the razor wire. There were several cinder block buildings in the compound, the administrative area being in the center.  
  
"Shall we knock?" Garibaldi asked.  
  
The man at the small hut in front of the locked gate let them in after seeing their ID cards and calling up the man in charge. The gate opened and the short, stocky man at the gate led them to the administration building. Ivy noticed Victor hadn't removed his gold-framed aviator sunglasses even when they were indoors.  
  
The camp's founder turned out to be a big, broad shouldered Caucasian man named Desmond Fritz. "Mr. Fritz, sir, you have visitors." Said the stocky little guy from the gate.  
  
"Mr. Fritz, Ivy Darren, I'm here to visit my brother, Zack." Ivy said.  
  
Desmond Fritz said, "Darren, oh, yes, Zack Darren, let's check his company's schedule, shall we."  
  
They stepped into his office, and behind his desk was a huge flag with the Army seal. The big man looked at his computer, "I'm sorry, Camper Darren isn't available at the moment. Here's my card, call if you have any more questions. Les, escort these two out."  
  
Ivy wasn't sure what gave her the creeps more, the lanky seventeen year old Les with a shaven head and a sullen expression or Mr. Fritz, not even knowing where his own campers were unless he checked their schedule. This camp wasn't that big, only fifty people or so, why did it need a database to figure out where they all were.  
  
As they walked down the concrete sidewalk, Ivy saw a group of kids in black uniforms with two more of the camouflage-clad counselors standing over them. The oldest kid looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen while the counselor looked little more than seventeen or eighteen. They were carrying garden tools and appeared to be emptying a planter. She paused to watch them when Les growled, "It's just a work detail, nothing interesting. We assign campers who misbehave to them. C'mon keep moving."  
  
"Hey, don't manhandle the lady like that." Garibaldi said.  
  
"You wanna make something of it?" Les replied.  
  
"Just throw the first punch and we'll see who's on the deck." Garibaldi said in a menacing tone.  
  
"Boys, boys. Let's not resort to violence." Ivy said, taking Victor by an arm. All the while Ivy didn't show exactly what she was feeling but when they reached the car she let Victor know.  
  
"Vic, didn't that counselor seem strange to you?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Who, Mr. Fritz?" Garibaldi replied, "Yeah, kinda, why."  
  
"I mean, fifty campers isn't that many to look out for. Yet he needed some kind of database to keep track of them all. And that fence looked like it came from a prison. And the creep, Les, I can't believe they put him in charge of these kids when he's not even that much older himself." Ivy replied.  
  
"I see your point." Garibaldi said, "There's more at this camp then meets the eye. The fact that they put that slack jawed yokel in charge of those kids makes my skin crawl."  
  
"Hey Victor, don't look now, but that Les guy is still here, mind if we keep talking more when we get on the road." Ivy replied, indicating the camouflage clad bully with the dark shades.  
  
"Sure." Garibaldi said, pulling them out of the parking lot. As they drove down I-4, Ivy was still voicing concerns.  
  
"I think this camp is more than meets the eye. They just tell me Zack isn't available and not where he is. That's creepy. And did you notice how quick he was to get rid of us, almost like he wasn't expecting us and he wanted us to leave as soon as he saw we were there and who we were."  
  
"You're right, Ivy, you're right. But for now, let's see what information we can dig up. Chances are that phone number is either no good, or leads to some kind of answering machine that gives him time to come up with a phony response of some sort." Victor said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
At the office of Mr. Fritz, Les stood before his boss. "Are you sure those two didn't get too suspicious?" Fritz said.  
  
"Yes sir, I don't think they did." Les replied, "One more thing, I the boy outta that pair, I overheard the girl call him Victor. You don't think he's the same Victor we had here, do you think?"  
  
"I noticed that too, very daring Mr. Garibaldi, showing up like that. And an Acme detective to boot, who would have thought that Acme would take in a former Sicilian street urchin like him." Fritz said.  
  
"What about Acme?" Les said.  
  
"Don't worry about Acme. I'll make sure that they don't have a just cause to investigate us. Leave it all to me." Fritz said.  
  
To be continued… 


	2. Delving Deeper

Delving Deeper  
  
Disclaimer: Same rules apply.  
  
"Almighty God! Enough! Enough!" Victor Garibaldi shouted into the empty room, enraged. Everyone whom he had ever cared about had abandoned him, leaving him to his miseries. He kicked the drywall angrily as he left the hotel room.  
  
Savage raw emotion pulsated through him. For the rest of the day he wandered aimlessly, like a lifeless android. He couldn't quite explain it, but something made him drive all the way down to Kissimmee where the EPCOT Center millennium celebration was being held. Funny, how he wandered about, listless and deprived. He thought of how those past two weeks were both the best and the worst in his entire existence.  
  
His wanderings took him to a little alcove near the Mexico pavilion of the World Showcase Lagoon. He remembered Ivy, her bright green eyes, her full lips practically begging to be kissed. So he kissed them then. The Millennium parade happened by and he watched it go by, but not with that same special feeling that he and Ivy had shared watching it go by. Now it was replaced by a hollow despair, completely deprived of all the feeling of hope and promise he had felt that special night. Funny how in the middle of all this happiness he could feel so sad, he thought as he walked along aimlessly. In front of him a young teenage couple was about to kiss. The pain struck like the full force of an explosive device.  
  
"For God's sake! This isn't a fucking love shack! Quit caressing in public there are little kids here!" he yelled. Strange, it felt gratifying to vent out his rage, of losing what he once had but no longer did.  
  
"Hey you jerk, mind your own business!" the girl said.  
  
"Can it sister!" Garibaldi shouted, letting his rage vent through him.  
  
"Hey man, you've got a serious attitude problem!" said the man.  
  
"You wanna make something out of it!" Garibaldi said, getting in the lanky seventeen year old's face.  
  
"Hey, what's your malfunction?" the girl added.  
  
"You wanna go at it you little fuck." Garibaldi shouted. God it felt good to just vent, to erupt angrily like Mount St. Helens.  
  
A security guard broke up the fight before it got bad and Garibaldi was again left alone. Good God did that feel great to just vent his anger out like an explosive volcanic eruption.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"I'm worried about Zack, Victor." Ivy said as they pulled into the parking lot of the Acme head quarters.  
  
"Looks like they've all left." Victor replied, "Even Stefan's gone home. Hungry?"  
  
"I'm too worried." Ivy said.  
  
"I remember hearing a saying that food in the stomach helps one think." Garibaldi replied, "I know a good place to get a quick bite to eat. And some info, Papa Louie's is where I always get a lot of my information."  
  
"Papa Louie's?" Ivy asked.  
  
"It's located near the Executive Airport, I eat there all the time. It's a nice little mom and pop's store with a little gift shop that caters to visiting pilots." Garibaldi replied.  
  
Papa Louie's was a small building, run by Louis "Papa Louie" Trent, a retired Vietnam War helicopter pilot, his wife and their oldest son. After Vic gave their order to the waiter, Ivy pulled her laptop out of her backpack.  
  
"Zack always said I was behind the times in terms of technology, I only use it when I need to though…" Ivy said.  
  
"Ivy, don't worry, Zack will be fine." Garibaldi said, feeling genuine sympathy for this girl who had traveled from San Francisco to look for her brother only to have some jerk who Victor would have bet his life savings hadn't even made it past corporal in the US Army claim ignorance as to Zack's whereabouts. He really felt misgivings of every kind, but he didn't want to upset Ivy any further.  
  
Papa Louie himself came out with their order. "Well, if it isn't Victor Garibaldi. Who's the young lady?"  
  
"Papa Louie, this Ivy, from Acme San Francisco." Victor said.  
  
"So, here for dinner or business." Papa Louie said.  
  
"Actually a little bit of both." Victor replied.  
  
"Oh, here he goes again, pumping an old man for information." Papa Louie said in a pretend hurt tone, "What do you want to know?"  
  
"About that Youth Outreach program, have there been any rumors about it, abuses, unusual punishments, beatings and such." Garibaldi replied.  
  
"There have been unsubstantiated rumors of abuse, but they somehow tend to fade into obscurity. They had state inspectors there last year to investigate abuse allegations but they found no substantial evidence." Papa Louie said, "Now enjoy your meal."  
  
"You think Zack's…" Ivy said.  
  
"He'll be alright." Victor said, as the meal concluded and he paid the check. He impulsively laid a hand on her hand, a reassuring gesture, "Look, if you want to investigate this, feel free, and if you need my help, here's my phone number."  
  
He drove her to the place she was staying at, a hotel in the Orlando International Airport she was sharing with another Acme detective, Anya Jetal, and went back home.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
That night, Ivy couldn't sleep. For one she was worried about Zack, for two what was it about Victor that she was starting to find fairly fascinating. Was it his easy smile? His unorthodox ways, the way he was genuinely concerned for her?  
  
Anya said, "Could you please stop tossing and turning, you're keeping me awake."  
  
"Sorry." Ivy replied.  
  
"What's wrong?" Anya said.  
  
"Just my brother, I'm so worried about him. Maybe I should give Victor a call and see if he can't help me with my investigation." Ivy replied.  
  
"Oh, I see." Anya said, smiling, "I know what you're thinking. You think Victor's cute."  
  
"I do not." Ivy said, "Well maybe that complete honesty of his is attractive but…"  
  
"You do. Admit it, I'll bet half your worry is about Zack, and the other half is how Victor's making you feel." Anya said.  
  
"Anya, you are such a romantic." Ivy said, pointing at the romance novel on the bedside table on Anya's side of the room.  
  
"True. But about this investigation you're doing without Acme approval, Victor's the best man for the job." Anya said.  
  
"Maybe you're right…" Ivy replied. As she fell asleep, she decided, Victor and this case could easily wait until morning.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Zack could hear the counselors, there were four of them now, screaming at the poor boy that was gasping and having trouble keeping up.  
  
"That was the best case of faking since the Academy Awards!"  
  
"C'mon you little weakling, keep running!"  
  
"Toe heel! Toe heel!!!"  
  
"Stop crying you little runt!"  
  
Zack wanted to slow down too, but if he fell out of place on this run, the way the gasping, crying little nine year old behind him was, the counselors would jump all over him.  
  
That Les guy had jerked him out of bed, saying that Ivy had come to visit but that she couldn't see him. He also said that there was no way his Sleuthy Sis was going to be poking around here much longer.  
  
Zack was thinking, Ivy, wherever you are, don't stop looking.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Victor, I'm glad you could show up on such short notice." Ivy said.  
  
"No problem." Victor replied, "That's what I'm good for."  
  
"Victor, I've been meaning to ask you, where are you from?" Ivy said.  
  
"I was born in Salerno, Sicily, but then I was orphaned at the age of three. Since then I kinda bounced around from orphanage to orphanage." Victor replied.  
  
A ring distracted them both; Victor reached under his shirttail, pulling his cellular phone out of his gray shirt. "Hello."  
  
"I see." Victor replied, "Okay, I'll be there."  
  
"Who's that?" Ivy replied.  
  
"Oh that's Chester Reilly, one of my eyes on the street, he says he's got something for me. I called him last night after I dropped you off." Victor replied, "He says he wants us to meet him at EPCOT Center tonight. And as luck would have it, I still have two free tickets I received last month for solving that 109 case."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Are you sure he's reliable?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Believe me, he is." Victor said, "He's just a little, off."  
  
They were under the big sphere of Spaceship Earth when a chubby seventeen year old in a Hawaiian shirt and a straw hat. "Nice hat, Chesty." Victor said.  
  
"What have you got?" Chesty said, "Were you followed?"  
  
"A few presidents." Victor said, "No we weren't followed."  
  
"Now you're talking my language." Chesty said.  
  
"What do you know about Youth Outreach?" Victor asked.  
  
"How much are you willing?" Chesty replied.  
  
"Two twenties." Victor said, "And a fifty to boot if you spill a good tidbit."  
  
"From what I hear from my boys on the street, Youth Outreach is a fucking torture chamber. The guys who run it make them wake up at 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning. I hear they do all sorts of corporal punishment shit and actually whipped one camper for throwing up after a forced run." Chesty said.  
  
"C'mon Chesty, you want that fifty, don't you." Victor said.  
  
"Lets keep going through the attractions, for all we know they could be behind me." Chesty said, "Us spies gotta keep sharp."  
  
As they got onto the Mexico pavilion ride, El Rio Del Tiempo, the River of Time, Chesty handed Victor a manila envelop, "Here, this is some inside info on the camp. Including blueprint."  
  
"Chesty," Victor said, forking over the fifty-dollar bill, "I gotta hand it to you. You always come through."  
  
"You bring the dough I bring the info." Chesty said.  
  
Ivy stared at him, "Wow, I never really saw that approach. Where did you dig this guy up?"  
  
"Found him on my first case." Victor said, "My old partner, Mike Bellamy pointed him out."  
  
For the rest of the night they made small talk, and at one point sat on a park bench, Ivy reading over his shoulder at the info packet. It consisted of several blurry photographs that appeared to be a counselor stepping on a camper's stomach as he did situps, and a bunch of dead exhausted looking kids running in a group with the camouflage clad counselors running alongside.  
  
The Millennium parade passed by and Victor and Ivy stood, watching it. The lively beat of the Tapestry of Nations was uplifting and Ivy smiled, despite herself. Her hand brushed against Victor's as she impulsively took it. Victor turned, smiling, drawing her close. He tilted his head sideways so their noses wouldn't bump and it was a long while before they let go.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The next day, when Victor called, Ivy said she wanted to talk, over lunch. "Ivy, I've got some bad news."  
  
"What do you mean?" Ivy said.  
  
"Somehow my manila envelope went missing. It was on my desk in my cubicle back at Acme and when I went to go to the café to get something to eat, it went missing." Victor replied.  
  
"How did that happen?" Ivy asked.  
  
"I don't know but I tried searching for it but didn't find it." Victor replied, "For all I know that Fritz guy could have his sources too because somehow the evidence of his abuses always disappears, I found that out at Acme archives this morning."  
  
"You don't think he has sources in Acme?" Ivy asked.  
  
"It's a possibility." Victor replied.  
  
To be continued… 


	3. A Wolf in the Fold

A Wolf in the Fold  
  
Disclaimer: Same rules apply  
  
In the café, Ivy said, "So you're saying that Fritz has his own sources too?"  
  
"As a matter of fact I am. Face it Ivy, that man is not as dumb as he looks." Garibaldi replied, "Why else do you think abuse allegations against him fizzled out so quickly? Why else do you think my information disappeared?"  
  
"Maybe you should call Chester again." Ivy said.  
  
"I already tried it this morning, and all the places he goes on a daily basis, no one's seen him all day." Victor said, grimly, "And I suspect we won't see him."  
  
The grim, hard edge in Victor's voice was new, "You're suspecting foul play."  
  
"When dealing with that no good Desmond Fritz you expect quite a stink. I'm willing to bet his goons removed Chester from his house and he's now currently at the camp." Victor replied.  
  
"I remember their pamphlet saying they can remove really troublesome kids from their houses. Do you think they…" Ivy said.  
  
"I don't think, I know they did." Victor replied.  
  
"How do you know all this? I mean, one of the basics of detective work is not to rely on quick, first cut deductions." Ivy said.  
  
"I know all of this because I was at that camp every summer for nearly seven years. When I was fourteen, Acme took me in and I got out. I was the lucky one. Now I have the chance to shut that man down once and for all." Victor replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Desmond Fritz sat behind his desk saying to himself, "Hmm, after seven years at this camp, Victor Garibaldi you go and disappear after an abuse allegation. Then you reappear again five years later, this time as a member of Acme, one of the best investigative services on earth. But I've got far more tricks up my sleeve than you can imagine."  
  
As he did, he peered at the pewter Virgin Mary medallion on a delicate silver chain. It had belonged to Garibaldi when he was still at the camp. He took it away from him when he learned of his hiding it, saying campers weren't permitted any jewelry. That had been his last time at the camp, when he was fourteen. Five years had passed since then.  
  
"Come in." Fritz said, from behind his desk.  
  
"Some trouble with a couple of campers sir." Les said.  
  
"I'll be right there." Fritz said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
At Acme Orlando's computer lab, Ivy watched as profiles dotted across the screen on the various counselors and on Desmond Fritz. Victor was sitting in a chair, he looked like he was spacing out.  
  
His mind was far away he could see the counselors; there were four or five of them around him yelling, plus a sixth bringing Mr. Fritz. "Oh Mr. Fritz, look what little Vic was hiding all this time!" snarled one of them.  
  
He could see Les in the distance, Les the boy two years younger than him that he had always taken care of. Les the boy who snitched him out, becoming Fritz's little snitch after two years of Victor taking him under his wing. The little traitor, smiling as Fritz yanked away the only thing he had that reminded him of his long lost family, the little medal of the Virgin Mary. His mother had worn it around her neck; at least from what he knew from the torn half of the family portrait he had hidden away, something no one knew about. He still saw their angry faces yelling at him for hiding away a piece of jewelry he didn't deserve, as if he was some sort of thieving bastard for having it. Why? It was rightfully his he didn't steal it. Not that it made any difference as one of the female counselors, Mercy Fisher, a ruthless girl of eighteen, who, despite her youthful cheerleader beauty had her face contorted in a sadistic grin, tore the medallion from his neck.  
  
"Victor." Ivy said, a look of concern on her face, "Victor?"  
  
Victor was trembling, reliving the memory, he had two items in his hands, the wooden bead rosary he had purchased from Jerusalem and the torn half of the family portrait. "Victor?" said Johnny Burke, the computer tech with the rolled up checkered shirt and khaki trousers, "What's wrong, are you alright?"  
  
"Victor…" Burke said, grabbing his right hand the one holding the portrait.  
  
"No Fritz!!! You're not taking my family away from me!!! It's the only memory I have left!"  
  
Burke felt the punch to the gut, seeing the hollow, wide-eyed look in Victor's face. He stood over him, fists clenching. Suddenly they unclenched.  
  
"Easy Victor. Easy. It's me, Ivy." Ivy said, "Victor, he's not here, he can't hurt you anymore…"  
  
"I'll be at church." Victor said, programming his cell phone number into Ivy's cell, "That's how you can reach me."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
As Ivy left the room, Burke pulled his cell phone from his pocket, punching in Desmond Fritz's number. "Yeah, I got that evidence from Garibaldi's two bit information source. I also made sure Victor's gonna be out of action for a while at least. What did I do? Let's just say I impeded his famous deductive skills by going after his past. Oh, I just triggered a case of post traumatic stress syndrome in our Sicilian sleuth, he won't be pestering anymore."  
  
"What about Darren's sister?" Burke continued, "I don't know much about her, and she is very resourceful."  
  
"Dig up some dirt on big sis and try and put her out too, we've already reduced one to shambles." Fritz said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ivy walked into the sanctuary of the Catholic Church to find Victor kneeling at one of the pews, his rosary out. "Victor?"  
  
He was in the middle of an Our Father. "Hey, it's just me, Ivy."  
  
She threw an arm around him, "It's okay."  
  
Victor regained his composure, to be sure he was still ashen but it made Ivy feel slightly better when he said, "Well Ivy, for the first time in my life I'm at a loss for words."  
  
As they walked out of the sanctuary, Victor crossed himself and said, "Yeah, I'm okay, I just had to give God my word I'm not going to rest until Desmond Fritz is shut down, until I make sure no other little kid has to go through what I went through. I don't see anything wrong with tough love, that's part of parenting but all Fritz did was break us down, there was no building up part at the halfway point. That's what military training's supposed to do."  
  
"Where did you learn that?" Ivy asked.  
  
"From a psychology paper I read last year, called The Basis of Military Training." Victor replied, throwing on his beat up leather flight jacket.  
  
"I'm glad you're back Victor, I was worried for a second." Ivy said.  
  
"So the investigation's still on?" Victor said.  
  
"Of course, even if I had to do it myself. That is my brother at risk." Ivy replied.  
  
"I'll stay on it too, I've got my own score to settle." Victor replied.  
  
"So let's get to work on the investigation." Ivy said, "If we keep at it we can find enough evidence to put him out of business."  
  
"Ivy," Victor replied, "I wouldn't get too optimistic. We have that wolf in the fold to worry about. I know for certain he's at Acme, 'cause that's the only way my evidence could have disappeared so quickly. So we have to exercise discretion as to who we tell and how much we tell."  
  
To be continued… 


	4. A Keystone and a Reckoning

A Keystone and Reckoning  
  
Disclaimer: Same as in the first chapter.  
  
Victor and Ivy had been at this case almost the entire night. Both of them were feeling a more than little sleepy. They kept researching the backgrounds of assorted counselors, trying to find a hole, a weakness. "He's more clever than I imagined, moving from state to state, suckering parents out of money only to screw their kids up…" Victor said.  
  
Ivy was lying face down on the desk. They had spent many futile hours at the archives trying to find anything that might catch the interest of the state investigators. Chester had disappeared and because of that, all of Chester's sources were either gone or lying low. There were at least a few empty Styrofoam cups lying around the general area of the computers and the wastebasket.  
  
"Anything." Ivy said.  
  
"No." Victor replied, "But I turned up an interesting coincidence He's been moving around from state to state, every time he packs up and leaves its when there's an abuse allegation. He lies low for a while, pulling some kind of details then reopens Scam Camp USA on an unsuspecting population."  
  
"I can't think, Victor, we've been going through files all day and haven't found a thing." Ivy replied, impatiently, "Zack could be in serious trouble."  
  
"Ivy, don't you think I've not been caring. For the past three days I've stuck with you throughout, following every lead…" Victor said, irritably then his tone grew apologetic, "Sorry, we're both pretty beat, I figured if there's any information it'd be in the Acme archives, but all they have is supposition, somehow all valid evidence has vanished."  
  
"C'mon sleepy head, I'll get you back to your hotel." Victor said, helping her stand up.  
  
"All the way across the country and I finally meet a gentleman." Ivy smiled.  
  
Victor stopped dead in his tracks. Casually leaning against a pillar in the lobby was Carmen Sandiego, the most wanted thief in Acme history. "Carmen?" Ivy said, sleepily.  
  
"Ivy, Victor, relax, I'm here with news on Zack." Carmen said.  
  
"How do you know about this investigation?" Victor said, his tone turning accusing.  
  
"Victor, I didn't betray either of you, but someone at Acme did." Carmen said, "All I know is that four days ago, Zack got into some trouble trying to stand up for a younger camper being bullied by the counselors. They punished him by placing him in some kind of building…"  
  
"The Cooler you mean." Victor replied, "I must've spent more time in that thing during the summers than any place else at his damnable camp."  
  
"Right. I'm sure Victor can tell you the gory details, but all I know is that Zack was in pretty bad shape when they put him in. Fortunately from VILE bugs at Acme HQ's phone lines, I have a complete transcript of every phone call he's made since he's been at that camp." Carmen said.  
  
"Let's hear them then." Ivy said, suddenly with renewed vigor.  
  
"First promise me you'll both get some sleep before trying anything after hearing this." Carmen said.  
  
Carmen put the tape into a tape player. Playing over it was just standard stuff, all of Zack's casual talk, not inkling as to the abuses mentioned. "Carmen you think you could afford better quality tapes than this with all the stuff you steal?" Victor complained, "That static and tapping is terrible…"  
  
"Wait, Victor, that tapping is to rhythmic to be static. Listen." Ivy said.  
  
"Hey wait." Victor said, rewinding the tape.  
  
"Morse code, Zack, I knew you'd come through little bro." Ivy replied triumphantly.  
  
Zack's tap coded messages revealed a story about kids being locked up in solitary confinement, forced runs when the kids were already exhausted. Methodically Victor copied the transcript exactly as Ivy read them out. "Now all we need is that evidence I got, that will really bring the house down." Victor replied.  
  
"We need a plan to get into the camp." Ivy stated, "And I think a little undercover work is in order."  
  
Carmen began tapping out on the computer; "I've created you a false record, cover for this. Spend tomorrow studying it and then you can join up as a camper."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Zack could barely move after that forced run and being made to lie on his back with his arms and legs at 90 degree angles from the ground along with the other so-called trouble makers. He lay exhausted on the surplus army cot in the bare concrete room with the locked door and solitary window. He heard a light tap on his cell door.  
  
"Hey, I'm risking a lot doing this for you, but here, eat this to keep your strength." Said a mysterious voice. A Russian accent was its only characteristic as the shadowy figure threw a packet of crackers through the small aperture, "I'm going to escape and make contact with your sister. She and a friend of hers have been making a little trouble for Mr. Fritz with their investigation."  
  
"Thanks. Who are you?" Zack said.  
  
"I'm Jan Dodonna, I'm sort of the head of all little attempts to take care of you kids. No time to explain."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ivy and her 'police escort' were walked onto the campground. Parked in the so-called 'police van' Victor had the bug's tracking sensor located in the innocent looking elastic hair band in Ivy's hair. He had debated that he should go but Carmen argued he was too recognizable and thus too much of a risk. Once Ivy was dropped at the camp Carmen and Victor moved the van off at a distance for surveillance purposes.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Jan Dodonna knew his escape had the counselors in an uproar searching for him. He knew if he got caught that he would be reamed beyond comparison but that despicable bastard was no better than a common criminal. He stayed still as two flashlight armed counselors made a sweep of the surrounding woods.  
  
The majority of the counselors were out searching for him, and that's how he wanted it. He needed to draw as much of the staff away as possible so that the state inspector, showing up for his yearly tour, would be unpleasantly surprised by his disappearance. Without the aid of the number of staff members Fritz wouldn't be able to keep all the kids saying their programmed responses.  
  
He just had to lay low for a day. And that meant being as silent as a mouse. A counselor walked not three feet in front of him as Jan lay under a bed of pine needles and palm fronds, hoping that some nasty spider wasn't crawling through his clothing.  
  
That new camper that he observed was interesting, didn't Zack tell him that his sister had shoulder length red hair. He didn't have enough time to contemplate this as he lay silent as a stone.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Ivy crept out of the girl's bunkroom, quietly, sneaking towards the main administrative area. There it was, on the desk of Fritz, the main body of evidence, Victor's source was really thorough if not a little weird. She laid a hand on it and then felt a large meaty hand clamp over her mouth. "So, the other half of Acme's finest team is on the case. Well, case closed sister…"  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Victor really began to worry when the bug was suddenly shorted out. "I'm going in." Victor said to Carmen, throwing on his battered brown leather jacket and walking towards the camp in the rising sun.  
  
He looked the counselor at the gate in the eye and the pimply seventeen year old opened the gate under Victor's intense stare down. He strode purposefully into the administrative center and found no one in the building but evidence of a struggle in Fritz's office pointed him exactly where he needed to go…  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
The rope cut into her wrists as Ivy regained consciousness. The big ape that had caught her was placing a strip of duct tape across her mouth. She could see Zack off in a corner, lying barely conscious on a cot.  
  
"Well what do I do now that I've caught the other half of Acme's best team in my net? I'll tell you what. Tie a couple weights to you two, throw you into that lake and when and if your bodies are found I can make up the following story: two campers tried to escape the camp, but they stupidly tried to do it by swimming across the lake…"  
  
"There's exactly one flaw in that story Fritz." Said a familiar voice he hadn't heard in five years. Walking into the open after years of hiding came a medium built, nineteen year old, "If you do that, there is a tape of your last few words, I think that's first degree murder maybe second degree if you hire yourself a good lawyer."  
  
"Victor Garibaldi, I never thought I'd see you again. You know, maybe I should have left your scrawny little behind in that Sicilian orphanage where I found you." Fritz said, "You sorry ingratiate."  
  
"Isn't that kidnapping over there." Victor said, referring to Ivy, bound and gagged in the corner, "Another few years to boot."  
  
"Give me that tape Victor and I'll see to it you walk out of here intact." Fritz said, producing the medallion, Victor's medallion.  
  
"Do you really think I'm that stupid." Garibaldi replied.  
  
Fritz grabbed his wrist, "I broke your arm before Victor, I can do it again."  
  
Fritz felt a stinging in his eyes as Victor threw the salt and pepper mixture into his face. "I'm not seven years old anymore Fritz. You can't kick me around any longer."  
  
"Damn you Victor." He growled through stinging eyes, "I'll do more than break your arm now."  
  
Victor wrested himself free, "Vae Victus, Fritz. Suffering to the conquered."  
  
"You really think you've won Victor Garibaldi…I'll have that tape yet." Fritz growled, lunging blindly.  
  
Garibaldi sidestepped but was caught around the waist, knocking him back. He grabbed Victor in a chokehold, "Who's conquered now. Farewell Victor Garibaldi. Farewell."  
  
Just then the door opened again and several police officers came in, from an anonymous tip, courtesy of one Carmen Sandiego. "Vae Victus." Garibaldi choked out as he passed out.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
A few days later, Zack was recovering in the hospital and Ivy learned that Chief had authorized her and Zack to take a week's vacation in Florida. Victor had a few plans for that one.  
  
Ivy saw a piece of paper slide under the door of her hotel room. The note said, "Get dressed and meet me downstairs.  
  
Ivy did as the note instructed and saw a lone figure sitting in a chair in front of the hotel area in the airport. A medium built man wearing an all too familiar beat up leather jacket. "I know that the little rendezvous with Chester was a bit rushed back there at EPCOT. I can tell you haven't been there before and it really is quite a fascinating place all in all. First we'll have some breakfast, visit Zack for a while, and then have the rest of the day to ourselves. Cool?"  
  
"Cool." Ivy said.  
  
After visiting Zack in the hospital, who assured them he was gonna be back on his feet in a day or so, they spent the rest of the day with each other. He showed her around the park, which he said was what got him interested in science and philosophically made him think that there was hope for man.  
  
"When I see how people can still write music dedicated to love, unity and peace I feel that hope for mankind exists. For every Desmond Fritz there's a man willing to make everything good for mankind. It kinda gives you hope." Victor said.  
  
"Kinda, Victor, you have no idea. You've known so much pain, suffering and loss, I feel more than a little hope if for every Desmond Fritz there's a Victor Garibaldi born." Ivy replied.  
  
As they stood, hand in hand, watching the parade, the song Tapestry of Nations playing. Victor said, "You know that first time I kissed you that was sort of spontaneous, I never imagined I was kissing someone I'd really wind up caring a lot about. You know when that asshole had gotten you, my heart stopped. I really thought I'd lose you. To tell you the truth I was scared to death that whole time but I knew I couldn't just leave you there."  
  
"Victor, that was the bravest thing I've ever seen done." Ivy replied, "So now that Fritz is out of the ballgame, how do you feel?"  
  
"Like a great burden has fallen from my shoulders." Victor replied, as they stood on a secluded spot by the World Showcase Lagoon.  
  
"You know Victor, I'll never forget today if I live to be a hundred. You've been such a sweetheart all this time and I know that you try to act tough and hide that sensitive caring man underneath, let him out a little. I know you've impressed me with it." Ivy replied.  
  
"Let me ask you something totally honest. What would be your idea of a very kissable moment?" Victor said playfully.  
  
"Let me think, a lovely sunset overlooking beautiful, breathtaking scenery…" that was about as far as Ivy got before Victor drew her close.  
  
"It is sunset, you know." Victor grinned and leaned forward. It was a long, long time before they parted.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Why. Ivy asked herself as she sat on her bed, forcing herself to write the most difficult letter she would ever write in her life. Victor is the perfect man, but I can't stay with him because of Acme. Strange, the only thing that keeps us apart is one of the things we share in common. Farewell soul mate…  
  
She saw Victor dozing on the couch, with Zack on the other bed. She slipped the repaired chain into the folded letter and put it into Victor's jacket pocket. She had received a summons from Chief that he wanted them back on the job tomorrow.  
  
Poor Victor, I'm sorry I have to do this to you I hope you understand. I'm needed elsewhere and I don't think we can be with each other. It's so unfair, I find someone I can see myself with years from now but I can't be with him. Ivy thought as she woke Zack and they walked out of the room, paying the cashier at the desk.  
  
The next morning Victor would wake up to find them gone and Ivy as well. All he had left of her was the letter a few photographs they took earlier that week, Ivy had some of them.  
  
To be continued… 


	5. A New Beginning

A New Beginning  
  
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego characters in this fanfic. This takes place two years after the events of the Schism.  
  
November: Corporal Victor Garibaldi sat at the bar at the mom and pop's bar and grill with several of his buddies. He was now twenty-one years old, and it had been two years since he left Acme. It was almost promotion time; a month from now the Army would decide which among this group of young men and women would advance in rank. He sat alone at the bar watching the others enjoying themselves at games of billiard. "Hey barkeep I'll take another beer, a Miller Light." He said.  
  
"Make that two." Said another man, the one sitting next to him. He vaguely recognized him as Sergeant First Class Schwartz, a heavyset power lifter who worked with the Administrative department at Fort Benning, Georgia.  
  
"I know you kid," the man said, "You work on the crash site investigation unit. Made corporal at the minimum time, I know you're a synch for sergeant. What's you're name again."  
  
"Victor Garibaldi."  
  
"Eddie Schwartz, Sergeant First Class. I got a look at your personnel file and I know they're definitely recommending you to sergeant, so that beer's on me." Schwartz said, "I tell you, once you get that confidence up, you'll be a babe magnet in no time. I hear your guys talk about you all the time, how the military's your only life. They practically had to drag you out here."  
  
"Hey Vic," said Corporal Ace Leivy, the other sergeant hopeful. Both of them were good buddies, "Heard they're really interested in putting you up for immediate promotion to sergeant."  
  
"Really." Said another soldier.  
  
"Alright Sarge." Came another.  
  
"So do you think the Army's gonna issue you a woman with those stripes?" said Ace.  
  
"I don't know, Ace, I don't know." Garibaldi said with a slow grin.  
  
"How many waiting in the wings?" said Schwartz, taking a long swallow of his Miller Light.  
  
"None really." Garibaldi replied.  
  
"Do me a favor and go look for one, because before you know it you'll be an old barfly like me who's sooner or later gonna be pushing up daisies in some depressing cemetery." Schwartz replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Victor realized that more opportunities awaited him as 1st Lieutenant Harding stopped him on his run. "Hey Corporal, got a minute?"  
  
"Yes sir." Garibaldi replied, sweating in his black sweat pants and brown Army issue undershirt.  
  
"Hop in." Harding said, driving him off to see the unit's commanding officer.  
  
"Sir, may I inquire what this is all about?" Garibaldi said.  
  
"Well, seeing you've had such a good service record, we think there just may be more opportunities for you than going around investigating crashed aircraft." Harding said, "How would you like to go through the Warrant Officer program and actually fly those aircraft that you go through and investigate?"  
  
"I'll think about it sir." Garibaldi replied.  
  
"All I want to hear is an honest answer, say two days from now with your final decision."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Wearing his new sergeant chevrons, Victor Garibaldi was due to ship out to Fort Rucker, Alabama to the Warrant Officer's Candidate School or WOCS. He had the feeling Ace was going to be wearing them after he left.  
  
"Hooyah!" said several of his co-workers, lifting their glasses.  
  
Outside the restaurant, Zack and Ivy were waiting to be seated, as they were meeting a contact on their case. The waitress led them to their seat as another one passed by with a pitcher of beer.  
  
Two tables over was a noise fest, a bunch of Army guys toasting one of their own, who just made sergeant. They were all in their Class A summer uniforms; short sleeved gray green shirts and darker green trousers.  
  
Normally Ivy would have written it off as just another bunch of people partying, celebrating another's success but the following loud words were enough to stop her dead in her tracks.  
  
"Hooyah Sarge!" a soldier sitting at the table's end called out, downing a glass of beer.  
  
"Quiet!" said a corporal.  
  
"Why, what is it Ace?" said the soldier.  
  
"I'd like to propose a toast, to our new sergeant." Ace replied, "To one of the best buddies a guy could ask for. A man for all seasons, one hell of a soldier, not to mention one who's stripes I'll be wearing once he leaves for Rucker. A toast for Sergeant Victor Garibaldi."  
  
"Here. Here." The echo around the table of around seven or eight enlisted men sounded.  
  
Ivy scanned the table, as discreetly as possible, finally spotting a dark haired, dark-eyed man of Caucasian/Sicilian origins, approximately twenty- one years of age. He was wearing brand new sergeant shoulder boards and Ivy heard several more shouts.  
  
"Hooyah Sarge!"  
  
"Hey good luck at WOCS, man!"  
  
"Speech! Let's hear our new sarge make a speech!"  
  
"C'mon pizanos," Garibaldi said, "You know I'm no good for speeches and if anyone's gonna be wearing these stripes soon it'll be Ace. Then you clowns have to salute me. Oh what the hell. Cheers anyway and bottoms up, my last drinking night as an enlisted man."  
  
As Garibaldi took a long swallow of the Corona he saw her. Short fiery red hair, green eyes, and oval narrow face. It had been two years since he had last seen her, and she was not an easy woman to forget. He still had her letter in his pocket, the one telling him she couldn't be with him. She looked different, sort of, but in a good sort of way, a little older than the last time, but it was as if she had a neon sign around her neck that read Ivy.  
  
Right about then, Ivy felt that Vic had seen her, looking up she saw him. His hair was shorter, close cropped and low faded in typical Army fashion, he was a little more trim and muscled than the last time she saw him, but it was as though his name were emblazoned right on his forehead.  
  
"Hey sarge, you alright?" Ace said.  
  
"Huh? Oh, I'm fine Ace, maybe I just had a few too many." Vic replied.  
  
"That was only your second glass, I don't think you're that drunk." Ace said, he then followed Victor's line of sight, "Nothing really spectacular about that redhead bud, she's a bit plain. I mean she's got that cutely independent look to her, but trust me, not the kind you'd want to get involved with."  
  
"I was involved with her." Garibaldi said, "Two years ago."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Ivy, what's wrong?" Zack asked.  
  
Zack's eyes followed his sister's line of sight when a response was slow to follow. He saw the young Army sergeant looking back at them. "Wait a minute sis, isn't that Victor Garibaldi?"  
  
Ivy nodded. She didn't know what to do at that point. Neither did Garibaldi, as he stood, almost frozen to the spot. "Ivy, just go talk to him." Zack said.  
  
"I don't know Zack, what if he just brushes me off." Ivy said, nervously.  
  
"Ive, the worse that could happen is that he just stalks off and doesn't say anything." Zack said.  
  
Ivy tried to conceal the nervousness circulating through her as she approached Victor, when he was standing off by himself, about to leave the bar with Pvt. Ted "Trigger" Fitzgerald, the youngest man at seventeen being designated driver by virtue of his being under legal drinking age.  
  
"Hi Victor." Ivy said.  
  
"Hi." Victor said, feeling like a nervous schoolboy again, a schoolboy in an Army uniform.  
  
"You look great." Ivy said, "The uniform, you must really be a hit with the ladies."  
  
"Actually I haven't had many dates lately." Garibaldi replied, "Been kinda busy. How have you been?"  
  
Part of Victor wanted to yell at Ivy but he understood the reasons why they couldn't be together, she had her biggest commitments at ACME, he loved her enough not to force her to give up something she enjoyed and loved just for them to be together.  
  
"The same. Not much new at Acme, the C-5 still keeps messing up our landings." Ivy said.  
  
"And they call it the cutting edge of modern technology." Garibaldi replied, the booze loosening his tongue more than it usually was.  
  
"Well Victor," Ivy said, "Our contact's here, I'll talk to you later. You should come to the Christmas party this year."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, Ivy, but I may have started flight training by then, but if the Army lets me go on leave, I'll be there." Victor replied, tossing off a jaunty wave before climbing into Trigger's minivan.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
December: Ivy stood in the terminal at the San Francisco Airport, "Ive, I wonder when mom and Uncle Charlie's flight's arriving, they were supposed to have arrived an hour ago." Zack said. At sixteen, Zack's voice had deepened; he stood almost a foot taller, but was still somewhat gawky.  
  
"Victor?" Ivy said, seeing a familiar face, carrying a backpack, wearing his trademark beat up brown leather jacket, wearing a 101st Airborne t- shirt, the chain of his dog tags sticking out of his collar and jeans.  
  
"Ivy." Victor replied, "You cut your hair."  
  
"You let yours grow." Ivy replied. Her hair had been cut a little shorter as part of a cover from a recent undercover case, "Which I plan to do."  
  
"So are you a warrant officer yet?" Zack asked, he and Ivy knew this from Victor's letters.  
  
"No, I'm still a sarge, on leave." Victor replied, "For two weeks, I restart school and then if all goes well I go back and go to flight school."  
  
"You want to go back to the 101st?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Yes, hell yes. Anywhere the Army sends me but the 82nd." Victor replied, "So has ACME changed much?"  
  
"Not much, Victor." Ivy said, "The Christmas party's still the big blowout it's always been."  
  
"Yeah, and it's one of the only times I've ever seen Ivy even attempt to wear a dress." Zack laughed.  
  
Ivy turned around and gave him a dirty look. "Better than seeing you attempt to wear one." Victor replied.  
  
Both Zack and Ivy laughed at Victor's attempt at humor. "Mom!" Zack and Ivy both said, hugging their mother, Garibaldi felt a tad bit lonely having grown up in an orphanage whether Sicilian or American most of his life.  
  
"Who's your friend?" said a familiar gruff voice. It was belonging to a broad shouldered man, standing about 5'10", a couple inches taller than Victor.  
  
"Oh man." Garibaldi said.  
  
"Who, Uncle Charlie." Zack said.  
  
"Uh, your Uncle Charlie was my drill sergeant in Basic." Victor replied, looking somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
"Sergeant Garibaldi." Charlie said.  
  
"Master Sergeant Zim." Garibaldi replied, "Congratulations on your recent promotion."  
  
"I'll be saluting you at some point you clown, relax." Zim said, "Warrant Officers are supposed to look relaxed."  
  
"Ivy," Victor said, when Zim was out of earshot, "Why didn't you tell me you were related to my old drill sergeant."  
  
Ivy smiled, "Uncle Charlie actually told me about you and to keep it a secret next time we met. He wanted it to be a surprise."  
  
Victor wanted more than anything else to talk to Ivy about their past relationship, but not now, things were going too good for now. He knew that it was necessary, what she did, but he couldn't help but feel hurt. Ivy, whom as much as it pained him to admit, he still loved had broke up their relationship because she didn't know if it would work, she had been in a few failed relationships before. Sure they still kept in touch but it was almost like they delicately avoided talking about their two-week relationship.  
  
Ivy wanted more than anything to talk to Victor about the same thing, but what was keeping her from doing so. Victor seemed pretty clearheaded, reasonable, caring, so what was it that kept her from speaking her mind around him.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Hey, Victor." Zim said, when Ivy was out of earshot, "You wanna go grab a drink and talk."  
  
It was slightly unnerving to have his old drill sergeant call him by his first name, "Sure, sarge." Garibaldi replied.  
  
They met at a local pub a few hours later, "Let's talk, Victor." Zim said, "I understand you were once involved with my niece."  
  
"I was." Victor said.  
  
"I notice you two still keep in touch but always beat around the bush when it comes to talking about your previous relationship." Zim said, taking a swallow of his Corona.  
  
"It's in the past, I don't bother talking about it much. She doesn't either." Victor replied.  
  
"Victor, I'm actually surprised Ivy hasn't driven herself crazy." Zim said, "She's so afraid of commitment, it's not funny. She keeps it bottled up inside all the time, but you can see it. There was Glen, this scumbag she was involved with. Every time he went overseas, he had a girl in every city and when Ivy found out she wouldn't come out of her room for weeks. She sees something in you, Victor I can see it. I'll take the check."  
  
"Thanks sarge." Garibaldi replied, as Zim walked out to the Chevy Blazer that his sister drove and he had borrowed and drove off, leaving Garibaldi with a half empty beer and his thoughts.  
  
To Be Continued… 


End file.
